Tara Vs Team
by Ira-Grace White
Summary: One-shot from "Greed". Myles reflects upon the team's experiences with Tara's lack of talent in sports. Please read, review, and enjoy!


**Well, I'm back with another one-shot. Once again, I don't own it, I just play with it. Thanks to Paxson Entertainment and the Johnson brothers for creating it. This is based off of the stories of Tara's clumsiness in sports, brought up in the episode "Greed". Please enjoy, read, and review! God bless!**

Myles sat at his desk, planning for the big football game against the DEA. He was desperate to win, but this year their chances for winning seemed to be slim without their secret weapon, "The Hammer". It was just too bad that the agent was out on an assignment. But as it could not be helped, he would have to find a replacement. He ran over the list of people once again. Jack, Bobby, D, Lucy - all great players. Myles himself? He was great too - that was why he was team leader. Myles rubbed his temples as he thought of Jack's idea - have Sue play on the team. The only thing that he reconciled him to the idea was the fact that Sue's lip reading might be their next great weapon for the team. He really did not know if she would be any good as a player, but he did not have much of a choice. They would need her.

"What type of energy drinks do you want?" Tara asked, coming over to his desk. "I'm about to quit for the day and I'm stopping by the store on the way home."

"Whatever's fine," Myles said, "as long as it has lots of electrolytes."

"I'll make sure of that," Tara mumbled as she wrote it down on a notepad. "See you tomorrow, Myles."

"Have a good evening," Myles replied before turning back to his list. He wrote down Tara's name beside the role "drink manager". That had been Tara's job every year since she joined their unit. Well, nearly every year. The first year she was in the FBI she had played. That time had been a total disaster, and the team had collectively promised each other that they would not let Tara near a football again.

That football game had seemed like it was Tara versus her own team. After a dozen stiches, a sprained wrist, multiple ice packs, and many bruises later, they had recovered, but no one was eager to let Tara participate next time. She seemed to have learned her lesson as well. She was now content as their cheerleader and drink provider.

Myles groaned as he remembered what had happened. It had all begun innocently enough...

"We're playing the DEA in our yearly football game," Shep, a fellow agent who was now deceased after being shot in the line of duty, had announced. "Tara, you'll be part of our team."

Tara had shook her head shyly. "I'm not sure if that is a good idea."

"Nonsense," Bobby had scoffed. "You're a part of our work team, you're a part of our game team."

"But I don't really think it is a good idea," Tara repeated.

"Why not?" Myles himself had asked.

"I'm very clumsy," Tara had said as she stood up. Somehow, in that one movement, she was able to knock over her full pen holder, drop her empty coffee cup, and trip herself on her chair. She finally collected herself, righted the coffee cup, and gathered her pens. She had looked back up, amidst the laughter of the others.

"See?"

"You'll be fine," Jack encouraged. However, Myles had heard Jack add under his breath, "I hope."

"It's not a good idea. I don't do sports. I don't even know how to play football," Tara admitted.

"You'll learn," D had told her.

Tara did seem to learn something through the practices-how to duck even faster than she normally did. At least her coordination seemed to improve in that regard. In other ways, it became clear that Tara was inexperienced in sports. She was very involved and tried her hardest, but she had no talent. It was amusing yet pitiful to see how excited Tara got each time that she did - or thought she did - something right. She tripped over everyone, bumped and bruised herself at each practice, and ended up bruising everyone else.

"Are we actually going to let her play?" Myles had asked Shep, who was responsible as their team leader that year.

Shep had sighed and shrugged. "After all her hard work, how could we tell her 'no'?"

That seemed to be what everyone thought. So Tara played in their game. It was a disaster.

"How did I do it?" Tara had moaned at the hospital. She was finally conscious and the colour was returning to her cheeks.

"You ran into the goal during what we assume was supposed to be a tackle. You ended up landing on top of the guy you were chasing - he now has a sprained ankle - and there was a bit of metal sticking out of the side," Jack told her. "You cut your head. You have a dozen stitches. They put them in after you fainted due to the pain and the sight of blood streaming down your face." The rest of the agents standing around her nodded confirmation to Jack's story.

"Really?" Tara reached up to feel her face and winced. The others also grimaced as they realized that tears had sprung to Tara's eyes. "My wrist really hurts."

"I'll take a look at that," the doctor had said. He soon made the announcement that Tara had sprained her wrist.

Both injuries were caused by Tara's wild tackle attempt, but her other "plays", reminiscent of how a moth acts around a light on a dark night, had left their mark. Everyone on the field was suffering some bump or bruise, gift of the computer genius. Then and there in the hospital room they decided that Tara would never again play football.

It was a decision that would be upheld, Myles reflected, as he added a note next to Tara's name on his sheet - "Never allow her closer than five feet to the field."

It was not worth the risk factor.


End file.
